'But I'm now accusing you of jealousy,' Pamir countered.
Silence.
'Conflicts over females is ordinary business for some species,' he continued. 'Monopolizing a valuable mate can be a good evolutionary strategy, for the J'Jal as well as others, too. And tens of millions of years of civilization hasn't changed what you are, or what you can be.'
Cre'llan snorted, declaring, 'That old barbarism is something I would never embrace.'
'Agreed.'
The green gaze narrowed. 'Excuse me, sir. I don't think I understand. What exactly are you accusing me of?'
'This is a beautiful, enormous fortress,' Pamir continued. 'And as you claim, you're not a jealous creature. But did you invite these other husbands to live with you? Did you offer even one of them your shelter and all of this expensive security?'
Sorrel glanced at the J'Jal, her breath catching for an instant.
'You didn't offer,' Pamir continued, 'because of a very reasonable fear: What if one of your houseguests wanted Sorrel for himself?'
An old tension rippled between the lovers.
'Every other husband was a suspect, in your mind. With those two harum-scarums being the most obvious candidates.' He looked at Sorrel again. 'Gallium would be his favorite -a relatively poor entity born into a biology of posturing and violence. His species is famous for stealing mates. Both sexes do it, every day. But now Gallium is dead, which leaves your husband with no one to worry about, it seems.' 'But I am not the killer,' Cre'llan repeated.
'Oh, I agree,' Pamir said. 'You are innocent, yes.'
The statement seemed to anger both of them. Sorrel spoke first, asking, 'When did you come to that conclusion?'
'Once I learned who your husbands were,' Pamir replied. 'Pretty much instantly.' Then he sat forward in his chair, staring out at the churning waters. 'No, Cre'llan isn't the murderer.'
'You understand my nature?' the J'Jal asked.
'Maybe, but that doesn't particularly matter.' Pamir laughed. 'No,' he said. 'You're too smart and far too old to attempt this sort of bullshit with a human woman. Talk all you want about every species being one and the same. But the hard sharp damning fact is that human beings are not J'Jal. Very few of us, under even the most difficult circumstances, are going to look past the fact that their spouse is a brutal killer.'
Cre'llan gave a little nod, the barest smile showing.
Sorrel stood, nervous hands clenching into fists. She looked vulnerable and sweet and very sorry. The beginnings of recognition showed in the blue-white eyes, and she started to stare at the J'Jal, catching herself now and forcing her eyes to drop.
'And something else was obvious,' Pamir mentioned. 'Pretty much from the beginning, I should think.'
With a dry little voice, Cre'llan asked, 'What was obvious?'
'From the beginning,' Pamir repeated.
'What do you mean?' Sorrel asked.
'Okay,' Pamir said, watching her face and the nervous fists. 'Let's suppose that I'm killing your husbands. I want my rivals dead, and I want a reasonable chance of surviving to the end. Of course, I would start with Cre'llan. Since he enjoys the most security… better than everyone else combined, probably… I would hit him before he could smell any danger…'
That earned a cold silence.
Pamir shook his head. 'The killer wants the husbands out of your life. From the start, I think he knew exactly what was required. The other ten husbands had to be murdered, since they loved you deeply and you seemed to love them. But this J'Jal… well, he's a different conundrum entirely, I'm guessing…'
Cre'llan appeared interested but distant. When he breathed, it was after a long breathless pause, and he sounded a little weak when he said, 'I don't know what you are talking about.'
'You told me,' Pamir said to Sorrel.
'WhatdidI-?'
'How you met him during the cruise. And what happened to you and your good friend just before you went to bed with this alien man - '
'I don't understand,' she muttered. Cre'llan snapped, 'Be quiet.'
Pamir felt a pleasant nervousness in his belly. 'Cre'llan wanted you, I'm guessing. He wanted you badly. You were a wealthy, unattached human woman - the J'Jal adore our species -and you would bring him a fair amount of status. But to seduce you… well, he needed help. Which is why he paid your friend to vanish on the ice in Greenland, faking her own death…
'He wanted to expose you emotionally, with a dose of mortality-'
'Stop that,' she told him.
Cre'llan said, 'Idiot,' and little more.
'The AI guide was right,' Pamir told her. 'The chances of a mind surviving the weight of that ice and the grinding against the hyperfiber shards… well, I found it remarkable to learn that your good friend was found alive.
'So I made a few inquiries.
'I can show you, if you wish. A trail of camouflaged funds leads from your friend back to a company formed just hours before her death. The mysterious company made a single transfer of funds, declared bankruptcy and then dissolved. Your friend was the recipient. She was reborn as a very wealthy soul, and the principal stockholder in that short-lived company happened to have been someone with whom your first lover and husband does quite a lot of business.'
Sorrel sat motionless. Her mouth closed and opened, in slow motion, and then it began to close again. Her legs tried to find the strength to carry her away, but she looked about for another moment or two, finding no door or hatchway to slip through in the next little while. She was caught, trapped by things awful and true. And then, just as Pamir thought that she would crack into pieces, the young woman surprised him.
Calmly, she told Cre'llan, 'I divorce you.'
'Darling-?' he began.
'Forever,' she said. And then she pulled from a pocket what seemed like an ordinary knife. Which it was. A sapphire blade no longer than her hand was unfolded, and it took her ten seconds to cut the Darmion crystal out of her chest-ripped free for the second time in as many days-and then before she collapsed, she flung the gory gift at the stunned and sorry face.
Pamir explained what had happened as he carried her into her apartment. Then he set her on a great round bed, pillows offering themselves to her head while a small autodoc spider-walked its way across the pale blue sheets, studying her half-healed wound, then with more penetrating eyes, carefully examining the rest of her body. Quietly, the apartment offered, 'I have never known her to be this way.' In his long life, Pamir had rarely seen any person as depressed, as forlorn. Sorrel was pale and motionless, lying on her back, and even with her eyes open, something in her gaze was profoundly blind. She saw nothing, heard nothing. She was like a person flung off the topmost portion of Fall Away, tumbling out of control, gusts of wind occasionally slamming her against the hard walls, battering a soul that couldn't feel the abuse anymore.
'I am worried.' the apartment confessed.
'Reasonable,' Pamir replied.
'It must be a horrid thing, losing everyone who loves you.'
'But someone still loves her,' he countered. Then he paused, thinking hard about everything again.
'Tell me,' he said. 'What is your species-strain?'
'Is that important?'
'Probably not,' said Pamir.
The AI described its pedigree, in brief.
